


Riding the Train in Spring

by grizzly_bear_bane



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Allergies, Alternate Universe, Angsty Schmoop, DC Metro, Drabble, First Meetings, Fluff, Gardener!Eames, M/M, Poor Eamesie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-28 00:49:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grizzly_bear_bane/pseuds/grizzly_bear_bane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames, a gardener with horrendous seasonal allergies, rides the metro during pollen season and gets a nice surprise from the posh young man sitting near him on the train.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riding the Train in Spring

**Author's Note:**

> This... I don't know what this is, but I had fun reworking this little thing into what it is.
> 
> Enjoy!

++++

+ 

 

Riding the train back to DuPont in the afternoon is always something best avoided, especially during pollen season.

Eames hadn’t even had the chance to fix his mp3 player before the endless stream of sneezes began.

He reached into the worn pocket of his old jeans for more tissues, feeling his supply already getting low; he still had what seemed like a million stops left before it was his turn to get off, and even then, Eames would still have to walk seven blocks to get back to his place.

He sank into the uncomfortable chair and tried to breath through his mouth, hoping that would help a little.

And then the train stopped and a man walked on with fresh flowers. He sat directly in front of Eames and nodded ‘hello,’ oblivious to Eames' blotchy face, red nose, and puffy eyes, and the crumpled tissues in his lap. Eames could tell this wasn’t going to be an easy trip.

Riding the underground tunnels felt like a momentary salvation from the lethal outdoor air. Eames dreaded each stop on the Red Line that took him above ground, where each platform was nicely decorated with clumps of flowers and large green bushes, and dust.

Dust was everywhere, but it seemed to be especially potent aboveground. And those flower patters and bushes, Eames was sure, were part of his own handiwork with the city’s gardening boom. He hated his job at this point.

Five stops in, and in his allergy-induced haze, Eames didn’t even register the squeal of the train on the tracks, the flickering lights, and the moron with the flowers now talking loudly on his phone. The doors slid open and a young man, maybe a few years younger, walked on, taking the last open set across from him.

He was dressed in trendy professional clothes, like he worked at a place that paid far more than Eames' shitty job—of course, Eames was sure if he'd worked indoors in an office too, he’d probably be dressed better than his worn jeans and faded shirt. Eames refused to find it ironic that he did lawn and gardening work, with the severe sinus issues he had. Now he definitely hated his job.

Looking at the man made Eames feel even more like shit. He was young and confident and seemed to be enjoying the weather like everyone else. It made Eames hate spring. He knew he looked like hell right about now, sitting across from this cool, sleek guy. 

Eames reached into his pocket again and came up empty-handed.

This wasn’t good at all. His nose was starting to run again, and worse, he felt a powerful set of sneezes coming on.

He frantically checked the other pocket, and even tried to reuse the old tissues, until a hand reached across the small aisle towards him. The young man handed Eames a whole wad of tissues, smiling, to say that Eames clearly needed those more than the man did.

Eames' brain was functioning decent enough to conjure up a lopsided grin as the smiling young man got off the train at the current stop.

His number was written on the top tissue.

+

 

End.


End file.
